As She Should Have Been
by ThequeenChrissy
Summary: "No matter what a waste one has made of one's life, it is ever possible to find some path to redemption, however partial." This is the redemption story of Mariene Halon. Kotor walkthrough, rated mostly for language. LSFRevan.
1. Prologue

**Just my humble take on the events of KOTOR. I'm in college, so updates might be kind of sparse sometimes, but I'm going to try my hardest to actually finish this story. I own absolutely zero of this except for my shitty headcanons and the liberties taken with canon stuff.  
Any feedback (positive or negative) is appreciated.  
As always, enjoy :)  
-ThequeenChrissy**

* * *

_"No matter what a waste one has made of one's life, it is ever possible to find some path to redemption, however partial." _

_― Charles Frazier, Cold Mountain_

* * *

The Republic battleships had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, but the fleet was small and no doubt would be easily wiped out by the Sith armada, especially when the counterattack was led by none other than Darth Revan herself. From her vantage point on the command deck, the Dark Lord was able to watch the battle unfold. Beneath her Mandalorian mask that kept her face concealed from the world, a smirk formed on her lips. Everything was going smoothly. In no time, the foolish attempt at a Republic attack would be over. They would go crawling back to Coruscant weak and defeated while her forces grew stronger and stronger every day.

She listened intently to the transmissions of reports being exchanged by the crew, but they quickly became increasingly garbled with the sounds of battle. Without even blinking, Revan shot a quick beam of lightening from the tips of her fingers to destroy the transmitter. It hadn't even been her first indication that something was wrong anyway. She had sensed the Jedi scum as soon as they'd stepped foot on her vessel.

_ Let them come,_ Revan thought. _They will die like the others before them._ _Those that have fallen to them already are weak._ She crossed her arms behind her back, waiting, knowing it was only a matter of time before they found her. She wouldn't even give them the satisfaction of knowing that she had been anticipating them. She was quite content to let them assume that for once, they'd caught her off guard and unprepared. She could feel the uneasiness of the young Sith acolytes beside her. She scoffed. They were stupid, sniveling, pathetic. Hardly worthy of the Sith at all. They would die soon, and she would not pity them.

In time, the infiltrators had battled their way to the command deck. The sounds of a firefight echoed behind her, but Revan made no move to join the chaos. When silence fell, she sent the acolytes out against whatever forces remained, knowing very well that they would not return to her. She could hear their bodies as they hit the floor. She didn't even flinch.

"Surrender, Revan." A voice from behind her demanded. Revan whirled around, her black robes and black cloak flailing around her as she did. A lone Republic soldier and four Jedi stood before her. She recognized one of the Jedi, who was no doubt the youngest in the group, as Bastila Shan, the Padawan who had mastered the ability of Battle Meditation. The other 3 were vague faces embedded in the memory of her time at the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine. Revan's gaze fell to Bastila. Turning her to the Dark Side would prove to be a most powerful advantage, but that would have to wait until after she was captured. The battle at hand was more important.

Without so much as hesitating, Revan lifted the soldier using the Force and promptly choked him, tossing his lifeless body aside as if he were nothing but a child's plaything to her. Laughing, she held out her hand as her double-bladed lightsaber detached itself from her belt and landed in her palm. The saber flared to life. She swung the red blade around in her hand, as if to taunt them.

"You cannot win, Revan!" the youngest Jedi cried. Another hidden smirk had crossed Revan's face as she raised her hand to strike when an unexpected explosion of canon fire from behind absorbed the Dark Lord and knocked everyone else to the ground. As Revan fell, as she was assaulted by flashes of light and pain, she did not need to question what had gone wrong. She already knew. As she lay there, crippled by her injuries that she did not doubt would kill her, her last comprehendible thought was, _Alek you fucking traitorous bastard. _As she was overtaken by a darkness that she could no longer fight off, she begged it to be death.

* * *

Bastila recovered quickly from the blast, springing quickly across the bridge to Revan's nearly lifeless body. Delicately, she checked for signs of vitality. "She's alive!" Bastila announced, surprised.

"Bastila, we should hurry. Leave her here, it's pointless to try and save her. It is likely she will die of her injuries anyway. The Council will not be angry if we lose her due to Malak's treachery," Anyara, an older Cathar Jedi Knight advised.

"No!" Bastila protested. "She's still alive, and we can still save her! We have to try! Help me!" she pleaded.

Another explosion rocked the ship. "Bastila-," Anyara started to say, but was cut off.

"Just help her," Aldren Dayos, the oldest Jedi of the four of them, grumbled. "She's right, and the less time we spend arguing about it, the more likely we are to survive."

Anyara, Aldren, and Niko, the last of the surviving Jedi, moved quickly to Bastila's side to aid the wounded Dark Lord of the Sith. Aldren and Niko carried Revan, while Anyara and Bastila fended off any remaining Sith soldiers.

They reached transport, and once they were safely aboard and away, Aldren and Niko carried the dying Sith to the medbay, where Bastila, and now the medical droid, continued to attempt to save her life, though her body seemed to be refusing any type of treatment.

"Bastila, there is nothing more you can do," Niko consoled. "Let her go. Remember what Anyara said. The Council will not be angry if you tried."

"There is one thing I can do," Bastila said, looking up at the older Jedi.

"Bastila, I must strongly discourage that. You don't know what kind of effect it will have on her…or you, for that matter," Niko replied.

"If it is the only thing that can be done, I must do it," Bastila argued.

"You are far too stubborn for your own good, my child. Do what you see fit. I hope you do not pay the consequences of your stubbornness one day," Niko replied curtly, then left the medbay.

Once he had gone, Bastila removed the Mandalorian mask that concealed Revan's true face, astonished by the great yet terrible beauty that she found hidden away beneath it. The now former Sith Lord's eyes fluttered open and she reached out to grasp Bastila's hand.

"Are you going to kill me?" Revan whispered. Her voice was broken and raspy, hardly recognizable.

"No," Bastila whispered in reply.

"Why not? I am going to die soon anyway. Please let me die," Revan pleaded. "There is nothing for me now in life. I am no longer Lord of the Sith; I will refuse to turn back to the Light. If you do not kill me, I will do it myself."

"No," Bastila whispered again. "I'm going to save you." She turned over her shoulder to the medbay droid. "Sedate her. Quickly."

The droid did as Bastila had commanded. Revan attempted to protest, but her body was too weak. Her strength was failing. This was Bastila's moment. If she didn't do this know, Revan-and all of her knowledge on how to stop the Sith-would be lost forever. Bastila reached out through the Force, fighting through the Darkness that surrounded Revan's mind, until she found it, the fading spark of Revan's life. Carefully, delicately, Bastila preserved the spark not so much that it would burst into flame-she would leave that much to the Council-but enough so Revan would not die, that the life that she was barely clinging on to would be preserved.

Exhausted, but her task finished, Bastila removed herself from Revan's mind. "Keep her heavily sedated," she instructed the med-droid. "If anything unusual occurs, report it immediately." Bastila joined the other Jedi, but kept silent about what she had done. In her heart, she knew she had done the right thing, and to her that was a small victory despite whatever consequences might arise from her actions.


	2. Chapter 1

**All of this chapter is pure headcanon. I just really liked the idea of, well, you'll see.  
As always, nothing belongs to me except for headcanons.  
Please leave feedback if you feel so inclined!  
Thank you, and enjoy!  
-ThequeenChrissy**

* * *

Bastila _had _hoped that the Jedi Council on Dantooine would know exactly what to do about the situation, but the final solution was unclear to even them at the moment. She didn't even know what had become of Revan. She was whisked away on some other assignment almost immediately after she'd told the Council of what had transpired between herself and Revan, although Bastila tactfully omitted the part where Revan had spoken to her, begging her to let her die. All the Council had done is both praise and criticize her actions in their usual, cryptic manner, and instruct her never to speak of what she had done. The rest of the galaxy, and the other members of the strike team that had been sent to capture Revan, all believed that the Dark Lord was dead.

However, Revan, or rather, the human being that had been Revan, was not dead. Instead, she was being held in a comatose state in a room in the Enclave that only members of the Jedi Council were allowed to access. Although Revan's current situation was definitely not what the Council had foreseen or expected when Bastila had informed them that she had succeeded to capture Revan, they were not idle with their prisoner. First, they healed her physically. They repaired her vital organs that had sustained damage in Malak's attack. They healed her broken skin. They removed any scar tissue she had sustained. When they finished, she was scarcely recognizable. Only an incredibly closely analyzed comparison to old holovids would reveal who this woman had once been. And that's when the idea came.

It was a dangerous idea. Too risky. What if it failed? Too many lives were at stake. If even one loophole presented itself, if the power and darkness inside her manifested itself again, the entire galaxy could fall. What if they went too far and lost everything, including her? But what if their idea succeeded? The tables could be turned, and the Republic might actually have a fighting chance to end the war. It could save millions of lives in the end. And what other option did they have, now that the enemy had fallen straight into their hands and would without a doubt be resilient to any kind attempt to extract information? After weeks of deliberation and debating and arguing not only logistics but morals as well, the Council finally came to a decision. Revan's former identity would be destroyed. In its place, a new identity would be created, one that was loyal to the Republic.

It was a painfully long, detailed process. Every last memory of Revan's life as a Jedi, everything that could potentially lead her to remember who she once was, even her association to the Force, had to be suppressed, hidden away in the depths of her mind where she could not reach them. If she ever discovered who she was, there was no way to stop her from discovering these memories eventually. But since the Council had unanimously agreed that to destroy them was morally unacceptable, they had no choice to trust and hope that Revan would never learn of who she once was, and if she did, that she would be wise enough to understand why the Council had done what they were about to do.

Even more difficult than "destroying" Revan's old memories was the arduous task of creating an entire life story for a person who never actually existed. Childhood memories before Revan came to the Jedi Order were mostly left alone, but how to fill in the void of Revan's Jedi years? It all had to be accounted for. Everything had to be carefully planned and thought out, even the minutest of details. After yet another few weeks, the Council had developed a reasonable, but more importantly, a believable life for the woman who had once been Revan.

The pieces of the plan were falling into place. With no identity, no memory of what she had once been, the Council would begin to weave pieces of their fabricated identity into the former Sith Lord's mind with no resistance. Their task was almost finished. What happened after that would be entirely up to the will of the Force.

-X-

Her eyes sprung open and she took deep, gaping breaths, inhaling the cool air around her. Air. How her lungs had burned for it. She felt she'd been deprived of it for so long. She moved her head around, taking in her surroundings. She was lying in a small, but comfortable bed with nothing but a sheet concealing her nakedness, in a small room with light brown walls. Sunlight beamed in from a singular window across from her, displaying the grassy plains outside. There was a table next to her, a small dresser next to the window, and an open door at the opposite end of the bed that she assumed led to a bathroom or something. She was alone in this room, and there was no sign of anyone else around her-no footsteps in the hallway, no sound of voices in the distance. Panic beginning to sink in. She didn't know where she was or how she'd gotten here. Come to think of it she couldn't even remember _who_ she was. The last thing she could coherently comprehend was an explosion and flashes of light, and now she was here. Where was here? Why couldn't she remember who she was?

_I'm dead,_ she thought hysterically. _I died somehow, and this is some kind of afterlife. _

It should have been comforting. After all, it wasn't a bad little place. Quiet, peaceful. But she did found no solace in any of it. She shot up, clutching the sheet around her, her breaths rapidly increasing until she was on the verge of hyperventilation. Shouldn't she at least be able to remember what her name was, how she died, or if she'd lived a good life? Or were none of those thing important here? She wanted to get up, she wanted to run as far away from here as she could but her body was unwilling to move.

The door next to her opened unexpectedly, and she could only watch in terror as she heard soft footsteps entering the room. However, the intruder was not what she had expected at all. She was greeted by an elderly Jedi woman-she could tell by the traditional robes before the lightsaber that hung on her hip was visible-with peppered gray hair and a kind face, and a leather bag hanging from her shoulder.

"Ah, good to see you awake," the Jedi said gently. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm…alive?" she asked incredulously.

The Jedi woman laughed. "Yes, my dear. You're quite lucky to be, too. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but everything will be answered in time." She reached into the bag and pulled out a stack of clothes, a large fluffy towel and washcloth, as well as various toiletry items, and set them down on the table next to the bed. "I'm sure you want to go get cleaned up. There's a refresher and a tub in that room, so use whichever one you fancy. When you're finished, I'll have a nice meal for you in the kitchen."

"Thank you." A genuine smile crossed the young woman's lips, and though she was still utterly confused, she knew that she wasn't dead and that she was safe. That in itself was half the weight off of her shoulders.

"You're quite welcome. If you need anything else I'll be just down the hall," the elderly woman said as she left, closing the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 2

Slowly, cautiously, she forced herself up out of bed. Her knees were weak and shaky, her steps were slow and uncertain, but by the time she crossed the room, she was fine. She was just proud that she'd managed the trek from the bed to the washroom without dropping anything.

She showered quickly, the thought of something to eat being far more appealing at the moment than taking a long shower. When she finished drying off, she used the towel to wipe away the condensation that had gathered on the mirror. She observed the face starring back at her as if it were foreign and unfamiliar to her. It had been such a long time since she'd seen it, it was like looking at a stranger. Her eyes were the first thing she noticed. Wide, almond shaped, and a bright cerulean blue. Her nose was small, delicate, her cheekbones prominent, and her chin defined. Her lips were small but plump, a natural rosy color. Her round face was framed by damp tendrils of long red curls, which she quickly plaited into a loose braid.

She slipped into the clothes the elderly woman had provided for her. Simple undergarments, a plain white shirt that was slightly too large for her, and brown pants that stopped about halfway down her calves. She gave herself the once-over, but realized it was foolish for her to be worrying about how she looked. She made her way down the hallway until she found the kitchen, where the Jedi was standing over the stove waiting for her. She was greeted with a smile and was pointed in the direction of a table with chairs.

"The soup's almost ready," the Jedi woman told her. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

The young woman shook her head.

"Don't be afraid to ask if you do. I'm here to help you," the Jedi told her. When the soup finished, she put it in a bowl and brought it to the young woman before sitting down in the chair across from her. "As I said before, I'm sure you are full of questions. Where would you like me to begin?"

The young woman swallowed a mouthful of soup before questions came running out of her mouth in rapid fire. "Who am I? Where am I? Who are you? What happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?"

"Your name is Mariene Halon, and you are on the planet Dantooine," the Jedi woman replied calmly in spite of the frantic questions. "My name is Myla Novack; you can just call me Myla. You've probably figured out that I'm a Jedi. You're here because your ship crash landed on the plains. You can't remember anything because you took a pretty nasty smack to the head when you landed, or at least that's what we understand happened. A settler saw the whole thing happen. He was wise enough to bring you here to the Enclave. I was assigned to take care of you."

"But I didn't see any sign of a head injury," the young woman, Mariene, protested. "Shouldn't there be a knot, or, swelling, or something?"

"Well there was at first," Myla explained. "You were pretty beat up when you first came here. You were healed by the Force."

"So, how long have I been here?" Mariene asked.

"A couple of weeks, at most," Myla answered.

Mariene nodded, taking a moment to eat as her mind processed all of this information. It took her until she had finished eating to work up the courage to ask the one question she needed to know the answer to. "The things I can't remember…will…will they ever come back?" she asked hesitantly.

The expression that crossed Myla's face answered Mariene's question, but Myla gave her the answer anyway. "I don't know. No one does. The Jedi who healed you said that it was an unlikely possibility. However, unlikely does not mean impossible."

Mariene's heart sank. If she thought about it hard enough, she could vaguely see scenes from her childhood on Derelia, but they were murky and far away. Anything that had happened recently was a black mass of emptiness. She bit at her lower lip, commanding herself not to cry.

She cried anyway. At first it was only a few tears that managed to escape from the corners of her eyes but her emotions very rapidly spiraled out of her control and before she could stop herself, she was sobbing uncontrollably. She buried her face against her knees that had instinctively curled up to her chest. She could hear Myla's chair scraping against the floor as she stood up to comfort her.

"There is no emotion, there is peace," Myla said softly, placing a hand on Mariene's shaking shoulders.

"Hm?" Mariene said, looking up as she tried to reign in her emotions.

"It is part of the Jedi Code," the older woman explained. "The words we live by. It is a reminder that we must face our emotions, but we cannot let them consume us. Not all is lost, Mariene."

"What do you mean?" Mariene asked.

"Your knapsack was recovered from the wreckage. Along with your weapons, you were carrying a few personal items with you. One of them was a datapad that seemed to be your personal journey. You kept meticulous accounts of your travels. Everywhere you've been, everything you've seen, it's all there," Myla replied.

A sudden feeling of relief swept over Mariene, and her jagged breaths slowly began to slow to a normal rate. She wiped her eyes hastily. "I should apologize," she mumbled. "I just…"

Myla gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'll be back in a moment."

She left the room, which gave Mariene a chance to regain her composure. Myla returned a with a worn, black knapsack.

"Here you are," Myla said as she held it for Mariene to grab.

She almost laughed. "I wish I could say I recognized it," Mariene replied as she took it from the Jedi's hands.

Myla had to smile. "There's still some daylight left. The plains are peaceful. Why don't you take it outside and get some air? It will do you some good to get out for a while. Just be mindful not to stray too far-I've been instructed to withhold your weapons from you until you've proven yourself to be stable, and the kath hounds can be vicious sometimes. You'd be in no condition to fight them off," Myla warned.

Mariene was certain that vicious kath hounds were going to be the least of her concerns at the moment, but she heeded Myla's warning nonetheless and decided not to go out of sight of the little hovel she'd just left. She eventually found a spot underneath a wide-trunked biba tree that provided sufficient shade from the light of the sun, but still allowed her to bask in the warmth of the afternoon.

Mentally, she prepared herself for what she might find in the pack. _I could be anyone; I could have done anything, _she thought. An unsettling fear arose within her that her previous life before crashing her ship on Dantooine would be disappointing to her, that she would find that maybe she had indeed not been a very good person. Slowly, she opened the knapsack that would hopefully remind her of who she once had been.


	4. Chapter 3

In truth, there wasn't much to be found inside. A few hair ties, some credits, her cosmetic kit which she was grateful to find undamaged-those things were so expensive-a few personal talismans that Mariene assumed were from her homeworld and her family, and finally, the datapad that Myla had spoken of. She took it out and set the bag aside. She ignored her shaking hands as she flipped the power switch. The screen flickered to life, and in an instant, her entire life flashed before her on the screen. She flipped through the files until she came upon the most recent one. Starting at the end and working her way towards the beginning seemed to be the most logical approach to her. The events that had happened recently would theoretically be the most relevant memories anyway.

She began reading, and she continued reading long after the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, absorbing everything she could from the journal that she'd kept until she'd finished. Once she'd finished, she tossed the datapad aside as her mind sorted through everything she'd just learned. The moons had risen high in the night sky when eventually, Myla came to fetch her.

"So, I hope at least some of your questions have been answered," Myla said as she approached the young woman.

"A few," Mariene replied. "It just…it all feels like I'm looking at my life through someone else's eyes. I just want to be able to remember doing all of this."

"Maybe someday you will. You cannot give up that hope," Myla said

"I know. It's just so damn frustrating," Mariene sighed.

"All hurts heal with time," Myla said.

"I'm not exactly a patient person," Mariene muttered.

"You will learn someday," Myla said with a smile, one of those knowing smiles that only an older person who had no doubt been the same way in her younger days could give. "Come inside, Mariene."

The pair walked back to Myla's small house in silence. When they returned, Myla brewed a cup of tea for Mariene that would help her sleep. Myla sent her to bed after making her promise that if she needed anything during the night that she wouldn't hesitate to call for her, but Mariene had no intention whatsoever of disturbing her in the middle of the night. She was exhausted from the events of today and she'd barely done anything at all. That, coupled with the warm feeling that the tea had spread through her body, made her incredibly drowsy, and she was asleep within minutes.

-x-

At the end of her first week on Dantooine, Mariene had been dying for a little bit of action, and Myla had humored her by sparring with her for a little while. It was a bit unfair-even though Myla was older, she had years of Jedi training, was in far better physical shape at the moment and she had lightsabers, while Mariene only had a pair of Echani vibroblades. It was a struggle for Mariene to keep up, but she welcomed the challenge.

The vibroblades felt awkward in her hands and at first her swings were careless and clumsy, and her attempt to block attacks was pathetic at best. But after a couple of rounds of being easily overtaken, she felt as if something had awoken inside of her. She changed her grip and raised her swords with a newfound confidence, as if they were merely extensions of her arm. This time, her attacks were not so ill placed, her blocks more efficient. She still lost the match, but only because she yielded. As the days went on, she improved. There was just something about melee combat that felt natural to her. Besides, it had only taken one day of target practice for her to rediscover that she was still shit with a blaster.

-x-

"Have you given much thought towards what you're going to do when you've recovered?" Myla asked over lunch one day after an hour of vigorous sparring.

"Not really," Mariene replied. "In all honestly, I don't really know of anywhere to go."

"Have you considered signing on with the Republic Fleet?" Myla suggested. "You're very talented, you know. They could really use someone with talent like yours, especially now."

"I'll…consider it," Mariene replied. It wasn't a terrible suggestion, but it also felt like she didn't have much of a choice if she wanted to get off Dantooine. Her ship was gone, which meant her lone days of scouting out planets for private investors were behind her. Settling down was definitely not an option for her. She'd be bored out of her mind with domestic life, especially since there was so much going on in the galaxy. If she were being completely honesty with herself, the thought of being tied down to one place frightened her. And she couldn't be a burden on Myla forever. Her options were limited. Still, she thought about it for a few days and made her decision. She would leave for Coruscant in a week.

-x-

The day of her departure came, and for some odd reason Mariene suddenly found herself having second thoughts about leaving Dantooine. She quickly shut them down. As much as she would miss Myla and the peace she had temporarily found on Dantooine, she was forced to admit to herself that she was getting restless and anxious to be out there doing something again. Granted, joining the fleet wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind, but it was a start.

She'd just finished applying make-up and was about to start braiding her hair when Myla called her to breakfast. Mariene made her way to the dining room where Myla placed a warm bowl of oatmeal in front of her.

"So, this is the big day," Myla said with a smile as she joined Mariene at the table. "Are you nervous?"

"A little," Mariene replied with a mouthful of oatmeal. "But I'm ready to be back out there. This quiet life…it's not my thing."

"Your place is out there," Myla agreed. "You certainly aren't going to find your destiny sitting around here."

"Oh don't start on the whole 'You have a destiny' nonsense," Mariene said, and while she was mostly joking, there was an undertone of seriousness behind her words.

"Oh come on, you didn't expect to get off so easily," Myla replied. "Everyone has a destiny."

"Not me," Mariene replied. "Anyway...thank you. For everything. I mean it."

"Oh dear it was no trouble-" Myla started, but Mariene interrupted.

"I was troublesome, whether you want to admit it or not. You've been so incredibly kind to me, and I'm forever going to be indebted to you."

"You don't owe me," Myla said before she smiled. "Well, maybe there is one thing..."

Mariene laughed. "Always a catch, isn't there?"

"Oh no, it's nothing major. But do keep in touch, will you?" Myla requested. "Although I have a feeling that I will see you again, I really would like to hear about your adventures from time to time."

"I think I can manage that," Mariene promised her.

After she'd finished eating, Mariene returned to what had been her room to finish getting ready, which basically consisted of braiding her thick red curls into submission. She looked around the room one last time, bidding goodbye to the first place she would remember since her accident. A place that, in a weird sort of way, felt like home. She double-checked her pack to make sure she had everything she would need for the journey before tossing it over her shoulders as she her way down the hall, where Myla was waiting to accompany her to the spaceport.


End file.
